


Catharsis

by vassalady



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Beads, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Body Shaming, Breathplay, Choking, Collars, Dom/sub, HYDRA Trash Party, Humiliation, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slut Shaming, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:18:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5310884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Steve knew Rumlow was HYDRA, he would let Rumlow humiliate him and rough him up before fucking Steve hard. It was perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Catharsis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691091) by [eccentricc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentricc/pseuds/eccentricc)



> I started this in July, 2014, and at last it's done.

Rumlow likes to humiliate Steve.

Steve’s more than okay with it; he loves it. He gets off on it, too, with these little games they play. He doesn’t have to do anything. Rumlow takes charge. He doesn’t have to think. Steve can just feel.

Steve doesn’t know exactly what Rumlow gets out of it. Their relationship is casual outside of the sex, and Rumlow isn’t upfront about why he likes to make Steve turn red from head to foot. Steve’s not about to ask. It works for the two of them.

Sometimes Rumlow gets a little too centered on “Captain America” for Steve’s liking, but there’s genuine joy in Rumlow, and Steve can’t fault him for that.

It’s a little sweet. It’s refreshing, having someone be so open about their desires.

For some reason, people try to watch even their language around Steve. He’s more symbol than anything to them, this Americana ideal that sprung up while he was on ice. Rumlow seems to get off on breaking that down, and while not everything Rumlow says in the moment sits right with Steve, Steve finds his own pleasure in deconstructing the myth.

Steve is Captain America, there’s no way he can get around that. He feels like Captain America, even though it’s a name he knows can and should be passed on one day. Somehow, though, it’s a part of him. Even though he began as propaganda, seeing what the propaganda has become sets his teeth on edge, makes him feel restless, like someone doesn’t know who he is.

Rumlow lets him let all that go.

The one thing that Steve puts his foot down is public shame. He doesn’t want to bring this thing in front of others. Rumlow is disappointed, but he shrugs it off, says he’ll take what he can get.

It’s after a mission, and Rumlow catches Steve’s hand. His eyes darken, tongue darting between his lips, and Steve knows what he wants. What he needs.

They end up at Steve’s place. Steve fights a blush as they pass Kate on the stairs. She glances curiously at Rumlow with his hand on the small of Steve’s back, offers Steve a smile, and continues on her way to work, pulling a night shift.

She’s the only one Steve shares a wall with, and he’s glad she’ll be out for the night.

Rumlow sets his bag down just inside the door. Exactly what he has in there, Steve doesn’t know, but he’ll find out soon enough. It’s a large, black duffel bag undoubtedly filled with a number of items and toys Rumlow plans on using to heighten Steve’s shame.

“Get me a beer, will you?” Rumlow says as he settles himself on the couch. He phrases it as a request, but it’s an order. They’ve already started.

Steve opens the bottle before giving it to Rumlow. Rumlow takes a deep swig before nodding back toward the front door. “My bag.”

When Steve sets it on the coffee table, Rumlow waits. It’s several long moments before Steve flushes, just a little, and reaches out to open it. Sometimes Rumlow does it, sometimes he makes Steve do it. Making Steve guess which one tonight is the first point for Rumlow.

Although it’s what he wanted Steve to do, Rumlow says, “That impatient for it, huh?”

Steve closes his eyes, feels his cheeks redden a little more. But Rumlow doesn’t tell him to stop, so he continues.

A pair of lace panties and a lacy bra is the first thing Steve pulls out. He lays them out carefully, under Rumlow’s steady gaze. He reaches in again and next pulls out another piece of clothing, this time an apron. He expects more clothes, but then he comes to the first of the toys.

As he pulls the first one out, Rumlow says, “Describe each to me.”

So Steve does, one by one, his face hot and his belly turning as he describes each item.

There are various sizes of plugs, anal beads, and a fake dog tail. There are things to bind Steve with, ropes, chains, a blindfold. There are gags and nipple clamps, a chastity belt, a harness. Cuffs, collar, leash. Whips and floggers and a hefty paddle. And then there’s an assortment of dildos and vibrators, all different shapes and sizes. Last of all, Steve pulls out a polaroid camera, lube, and condoms.

Steve stutters over some, such as the dog tail plug, but that only makes Rumlow smile.

The simple act of describing them sets him on edge, builds up a small fire inside him. This in itself is dirty, and under Rumlow’s almost disinterested gaze, Steve feels hot, searing embarrassment.

It’s perfect.

They won’t use everything. Hell, they won’t even use a third of it. But Steve wonders if Rumlow will bend him over and paddle him until his ass is as red as his face. Or maybe he’ll hook the clamps to Steve’s nipples and lead him around like that. Maybe he’ll shove the tail in and make Steve beg like a dog looking for scraps.

Steve’s not sure which he’d prefer, and his cheeks burn as he considers the possibilities.

The assortment has served its purpose.

“Pick out a plug,” Rumlow says. He stays where he is on the couch, one ankle resting on his knee, an arm slung over the back of the couch, and beer in hand.

Steve takes the small plug and holds it, waiting for Rumlow’s next instruction.

“On second thought, grab the beads. Leave one or two hanging out, then get dressed in the panties and apron.”

Rumlow leans forward and picks up the remote control off the coffee table, where it sits among the toys.

He flips to a game, baseball, and Steve is left feeling awkward, beads in one hand, underwear in the other. “Here, or…?” he asks, unsure if Rumlow wants to watch.

Rumlow spares him only half a glance. “Don’t care. Just don’t stand in front of the TV.”

Steve steps to the side and begins to undress. He’s still in Rumlow’s line of sight, but Rumlow keeps his focus on the game. Steve uses one of the bottles of lube to slick his fingers and begins to stretch himself.

“Not too much,” Rumlow says from the couch. “Don’t want to fuck your sloppy hole. Not yet.”

Steve doesn’t open himself more than one finger will allow. He pushes as many of of the beads in as he can, each one growing in size, until only only hangs out. The panties are too small, and cut into his skin a little, but the real problem is how they push at that last ball. It makes Steve tingle and shiver as he moves, everything shifting inside him.

As he ties the apron on, Rumlow crooks a finger. “Come here.”

Steve does. Rumlow forces him to turn around, and then he slowly pulls out three more balls. Steve gasps at the sensation, burns with embarrassment, and gets a slap on the ass before Rumlow says, “Make me dinner, bitch.”

Steve hates when Rumlow calls him that. But he doesn’t say anything, because Rumlow will insist on using it more. And if Steve presses the issue, they’ll call if off tonight. Steve isn’t willing to give all this up over one word. He needs this tonight.

“I don’t have much,” Steve says. “Haven’t gone shopping this week yet.”

“Well, it’s make me something or order take out. And you’re answering the door.”

Steve goes red all the way down his chest at that. He never would actually want to, but the thought of being forced to answer the door is horrifyingly appealing. He heads to the kitchen to find something to make.

He still has a burger patty, so he cooks that. No bun, so he grabs a fork, pours out some chips onto the plate, and returns. Rumlow doesn’t say thank you, just takes the plate, then tells Steve to sit on the floor next to him. When Steve does, Rumlow tosses a leg over one of his shoulders. It’s uncomfortable, and Rumlow is still wearing his boots, but he doesn’t complain.

Occasionally, Rumlow reaches down with a chip and feeds it to Steve. He’s only had a handful by the time Rumlow is done. Rumlow gets off Steve to put the plate on the floor. “You can lick it clean, then put it away.”

Steve’s feels hot as he bends over the plate on his hands and knees. Rumlow’s boot comes to rest between his shoulder blades, pushing Steve flatter against the floor. He only lets up when he’s satisfied with Steve’s work on the plate.

Steve winces at putting the dirty plate away with the clean ones, but he’ll throw it in the dishwasher once Rumlow leaves.

When Steve returns, the game is off. Rumlow is standing in the corner, fingering the collar. He tosses it to Steve. “Put that on, then crawl over to me.”

Steve bites his lip as he fastens the collar and drops to his knees. The apron gets in the way as he crawls, and he nearly trips. Rumlow’s laugh goes to Steve’s belly, low.

He’s not hard yet, though he feels his lust building. There’s a tension growing slowly, and the anticipation is half of the pleasure. Steve breathes shallowly as he finally comes to rest at Rumlow’s feet. “Lose the apron,” Rumlow says.

Steve is more than happy to comply, tugging it off and tossing it away. He waits for the next order, feeling hot embarrassment at only wearing a collar and ladies’ panties while Rumlow looms above him, still dressed in black jeans and a matching t-shirt.

Rumlow eyes Steve’s body, tips up his chin with one finger. His gaze settles between Steve’s legs and he makes a disappointed noise. “Really, Rogers, one would think you weren’t enjoying this. But you are, aren’t you?”

Steve takes a moment before rasping out a yes, as Rumlow’s thumb presses against his bottom lip. Rumlow catches his mouth while it’s open by slipping his thumb in, pressing against Steve’s tongue. It’s still salty from the chips. Steve can’t do anything but let his mouth hang open as Rumlow presses his jaw down almost to the point of pain.

“You’re going to lick my boots and jerk yourself. I want that slutty cock of yours leaking.”

That leaves Steve feeling breathless. That makes warmth pool in his groin. Rumlow lets him go so that he can bend over. Rumlow’s boots aren’t by any means clean, but he did take something to them while Steve was in the kitchen, wiping off the worst of the dust and grime. Steve reaches into his panties to grip his cock as he takes the first, tentative swipe with his tongue.

He tastes leather and earth, but he braces himself and keeps going. His hand works his cock over, and Rumlow’s voice washes over him.

“Captain America, licking my boots clean. Who would have thought?”

Steve feels the shame and heat grow, even as he feels a little ill at Rumlow’s use of Captain America. His cock hardens, and he twists his wrist, pleasure coursing through him.

“That tongue was made to serve. Made to clean up after the rest of us. That’s your favorite job, isn’t it, Cap? Licking my boot clean after I save your ass. Bet you thought about it all day, getting harder the dirtier they got.”

Steve cheeks hurt with how much he’s blushing. He feels it move down his back and doesn’t need Rumlow to describe it to him, although he does.

“Look at you, as if you’ve gotten an instant sunburn. You love this, love this dirty job.”

This thing between them started when Rumlow asked Steve for a drink one day. The humiliation games they play started when Rumlow was running his mouth as he fucked Steve into the bed, and when he brought up images that made Steve squirm with embarrassment, coming harder than he had before, Rumlow had said, “I like that, too.”

That was how it began, and it has grown to this point, where Rumlow can make Steve lick his boots clean, and Steve will do it and enjoy the overwhelming humiliation it brings.

When Steve is done with one, Rumlow orders him to clean the other. The whole time, he lets out a string of half-insults, half-compliments. He tells Steve how he’s only happy serving, how beautiful he looks spread out on his knees and hands, with delicate lace caressing the full mounds of his ass. Steve’s stomach twists uncomfortably, and his blush only worsens. He’s off balance and unsteady with shame, but at the same time, his cock is leaking, soaking the panties, as he strokes it.

When he’s finished with the second boot to Rumlow’s satisfaction, Rumlow orders, “Kiss it and thank me.”

Steve presses his lips reverently on the leather. “Thank you,” he says.

“Be specific.”

“Thank you for letting me lick your boots, sir,” Steve manages, voice little more than a rasp.

“Keep going.”

“Thank you for letting me clean up after you. Clean off the dirt.” 

Rumlow raises an eyebrow at him. “Haven’t told me you liked it.”

Steve gulps and says, “I loved it, sir. Love the honor. The taste.”

He’s aching and hard, hand still squeezed tight around his cock in his panties. Rumlow orders him to let go, to lean back, hands on his thighs.

Steve shivers at being on display. When Rumlow orders him to spread his legs and thrust his hips forward a little more, he does. Rumlow hums, a frown on his face, as if what he sees doesn’t please him.

“Can’t deny you’ve got size,” Rumlow says, bringing the toe of his boot up underneath Steve’s balls, “but it’s too big to be real use. Pity.” He raises his boot and rests it on Steve’s cock. He presses down, slowly, the pressure building until there’s pain. Steve bites back a groan. 

Rumlow steps back and walks away from Steve as if he isn’t even there anymore. “You coming?” he says, and then, without turning around, “You better crawl.”

Rumlow doesn’t watch Steve to see if he does. He just expects him to. And Steve will. He crawls, heavy cock pulling more at the fabric of the panties, and the part of the toy that hangs out like a tail gently bumping into his thighs.

Rumlow leads him back to the couch. Rumlow throws himself down on it, lounging with one leg thrown over the arm of the couch. Steve kneels by his side.

“So how men fuck you this week?”

No one has; Steve hasn’t been with anyone else since he and Rumlow started hooking up. Steve tells the truth. “None.”

Rumlow snarls, sitting up abruptly. He fists Steve’s hair and jerks his head back. “Don’t lie to me. How many? How many men you let use that slutty mouth of yours? Your gaping ass? Bet you were just begging for it, for any old dirty cock to use you. So?” Rumlow shakes his head. “How many?”

Steve fumbles for a number, something sufficiently high. “Five,” he gasps out. “Five, sir.”

Rumlow lets go of his hair. Steve’s between his knees now, looking down at the ground.

“Liar,” Rumlow says again. “So desperate to come off as cool. You want it, but no one cares to fuck that pathetic ass of yours. Your cock’s too big to appeal either. Hell, you’re too big all over.”

This strikes Steve hot in the gut. He is too big all over, awkward and strange, even after several years in this perfect body of his.

Rumlow sighs and shakes his head, disappointment clear, and that gets to Steve, too. He has to close his eyes as he feels his face burn, to be judged inadequate. 

Steve has always been inadequate. There’s a lancing pain in his chest that gives him no pleasure.

“I guess you’ll have to do,” Rumlow says at last. “Gotta get off somehow, pity fuck will do it.” Rumlow’s knee nudges Steve’s arm. “You want me to pity fuck you?”

Steve bites his lip, breathing harshly through his nose before saying, “Please pity fuck me, sir.”

“Pathetic.”

Rumlow doesn’t tell Steve to do anything, so he sits and waits. He’s practically vibrating with how low and worthless he feels. And his cock is hard for it now, achingly so, the anticipation thick in his mouth and his belly as to what Rumlow will do next.

Rumlow reaches beyond him, to the coffee table where the other toys and paraphernalia remain. He has to stretch and bend, which pushes his crotch into Steve’s face. His pants feel harsh and rough, and Steve backs away instinctively.

Wrong thing (or right thing) to do. When Rumlow straightens, a gag in his hand, he looks disappointed again. “Acting like you don’t want this, Rogers. Maybe I’ll just leave you like this for some other guy to find.”

“I’m sor-” But Rumlow cuts him off.

“No, don’t give me your excuses. Just do better.”

Just do better. The words ring in Steve’s ears, and he wants to. He will. 

Rumlow takes the gag, a ring gag, and fastens it around Steve’s mouth. “Don’t trust you not to fuck up and bite me tonight,” Rumlow says. “No matter how much you want to choke on my cock, you’re not very good at it.”

The gag’s too wide, and the drool quickly begins to pool in Steve’s mouth. He tries to lick it back, to swallow it, but it drips from his mouth, down his chin, onto his legs and the floor. His futile attempts to stop it fill his ears with slurping noises, and he misses Rumlow’s command the first time.

“I said,” Rumlow repeats as he jerks Steve’s head back, “you don’t get me to come, I’m leaving you here like this. Got it?”

Steve nods as best he can with Rumlow still gripping his head.

Rumlow undoes his pants and draws out his cock. He unceremoniously shoves it into Steve’s mouth.

“Keep those hands behind your back, or I’ll have to hurt you,” Rumlow warns. “Don’t be so useless as to not follow that order.”

Steve crosses his arms behind his back, gripping tightly onto himself. He has zero control like this. Rumlow holds onto his head and thrusts in at will, sometimes short thrusts, sometimes long, deep ones. Steve breathes through his nose when he can, and it sounds like a train in his head.

Rumlow’s cock tastes bitter on his tongue, salty and sweaty, and there’s still that lingering taste of dirt clinging in Steve’s mouth.

Rumlow thrusts in deep, and Steve can’t breath, he can only desperately swallow for what seems like ages, spit dribbling out of his mouth and down Rumlow’s cock and his balls, dripping all the way down to the couch or to the floor. Rumlow’s right at the edge; more of Steve’s spit ends up on the floor than the couch.

Rumlow thrusts in again, deep enough for Steve to choke, and then he’s coming, and all Steve can do is struggle to get it down. He doesn’t succeed. He can’t swallow, and it spills from his mouth.

With a rough touch, Rumlow releases him, and Steve gasps for air, his throat burning. Spit and come pours down his chin; he can’t do anything to stop it. 

Rumlow makes a noise of disgust. “Clean all this up,” he says.

Even though Steve’s eyes sting, and he still can’t quite catch a proper breath, he licks at Rumlow’s soft cock as best he can. Rumlow shoves him away and stands. He fixes his pants as he watches Steve lick at the couch. It’s cloth, so the spit and come have seeped in. Because of the gag, he can’t suck very well at it, and it ends up just getting wetter and wetter. At last, Rumlow shoves his head down to the hardwood floor, and Steve laps at the mess there.

He tastes dirt and dust mixed in with it. He should have cleaned before tonight.

Then again, there’s something about that that makes Steve’s cock ache with the need to come, and he hates himself for it.

He imagines he can feel Rumlow’s stare on him, making sure he doesn’t mess this up, that he cleans every bit up. But when he’s done and glances over, Rumlow’s not even looking at him. Steve’s not worth his notice; or perhaps, he knows how much Steve loves doing this, how he’ll do anything Rumlow says because he’s a cockslut, because he’s dirty and shameful and gets off on this.

Steve needs to come badly.

“Here,” Rumlow says and tosses a new toy to Steve. “I want that in you.”

It’s a vibrating plug. 

When Steve pulls the beads out of his ass, he can’t close his mouth to stop the moan. They pop out, one by one, slowly, and Steve has to take several harsh breaths through his nose before he can compose himself.

The lube isn’t where he left it, and he can’t see it among the things on the table. Steve brings the plug up to his mouth. He doesn’t have much spit left, but he can manage.

“Nuh-uh, did I say you could suck on that thing? Plug up your ass with that, not your mouth.”

Steve quivers at Rumlow’s words. 

He moves his panties aside so he can push the plug in. For a minute, he’s not sure it’ll go in smoothly; he winces as he keeps pushing, the plug getting uncomfortably big. Then Steve looks at Rumlow, and Rumlow yawns, as if the sight of Steve like this is boring him. With a deep breath, Steve shoves the plug the rest of the way in. He groans at the sharp pain, but his body adjusts to the intrusion.

Rumlow twirls his finger. Steve turns around. “Ass up, I gotta see that you did it right.” Steve braces himself on the edge of the couch with his forearms.

Steve’s cheeks burn as Rumlow looks dispassionately at his plugged up ass. With one finger, Rumlow circles the edge of Steve’s hole, where muscle and toy meet.

Steve clenches his fist to resist backing into that touch.

“No tearing. See, your ass is so used to having something up it, it’s all stretched out and loose already.” Rumlow sighs, like Steve is a disappointment. “Well, there’s no one self-respecting around, so I guess you’ll have to do.”

Rumlow pulls his hand away.

Steve waits. And he waits. But Rumlow doesn’t touch him. He can’t hear anything except his own breath, too loud in his ears.

Steve clenches and unclenches his fists. Fuck, he wants to reach down and jerk himself off. His cock has soaked the panties, but if Steve just shifts a little, he can feel them-

Rumlow’s hand comes down across his ass, hard. “Did I say you could fucking move, slut?”

“Please,” Steve tries to say, but it comes out as a jumble of noise due to the gag.

Rumlow bends over him. His clothes scrape against Steve’s skin, and it takes everything Steve has in that moment not to push back. In his ear, Rumlow says, “I’m not cruel, Steve. But you are going to be wearing this for the rest of the night.” Then Rumlow wraps his lips around Steve’s ear and bites down hard. 

Steve chokes as the pain lances through him, and he instinctively jerks away. But Rumlow’s hands are on him still, and he’s caught between Rumlow and the couch. Steve stops struggling as Rumlow holds him down with a knee in his side.

The struggling is a token gesture on Steve’s part, anyway.

Rumlow reaches for Steve’s crotch and pulls out his cock. There’s a sharp pinch as the cock ring closes around him.

Rumlow grabs Steve’s chin roughly and forces Steve to meet his eyes. “Now I’m not ready to fuck you. And I’ll only fuck you when I want, because I’m doing this as a favor to you, you know. You’re the one who wants this, and no one else would ever bother with a disappointment like you.”

Steve nods his head.

“Good.” Rumlow releases Steve’s head with a shake. “But first…”

He reaches down and turns on the vibration.

Rumlow sits on the clean side of the couch. He points in front of him, and Steve goes obediently. “Lay down.”

Steve stretches out on the floor, on his stomach, which puts pressure on his cock. He bites back a moan. It takes every bit of effort not to try to rub against the hard floor. He doesn’t care that it would hurt.

Rumlow steps on Steve’s back with one foot. He doesn’t use much pressure; he’s still sitting. But it’s enough that Steve knows if he tries to move, Rumlow will push down. Rumlow pulls his other leg toward him on the couch, his foot hanging off somewhere above Steve’s head. Steve hears him rearranging a pillow. Rumlow turns the game back on, but gradually, Rumlow’s breathing evens out as he falls asleep.

Steve feels the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, but he blinks them back.

Steve loses track of time.

By the time Rumlow shifts above him, Steve’s mouth is as dry as a desert, and his cock hurts with every nudge from the vibrating plug against his prostate. He feels disoriented and lost, aware only of the floor beneath, the plug within him, and the boot pressing down on him.

The boot moves and shoves Steve, forcing him to roll over. Steve tries to focus on Rumlow, but he can’t. Everything is so far away from him, from his body. He’s caught off guard when Rumlow pulls him up.

“Okay,” Rumlow says, almost gently. “Now I’m going to fuck you. You want that?”

The gag falls away. Steve tries to swallow, but only ends up coughing.

“Not gonna do a thing until you ask for it,” Rumlow says.

“Please,” Steve says at last, but his voice is a mere whisper. “Please. Fuck me.”

Rumlow tsks and shakes his head. “You don’t sound earnest enough. I’m not sure you really want me here at all. Here I thought you just lived for cock, but you aren’t convincing me of that.”

Steve starts to shake; he can feel himself turning red all over again. The shame wells up in his chest, and he feels like he might choke on it. He wets his mouth as best he can and says, “Do anything to me, make me do whatever you want. Just please, please fuck me.”

“Better.”

Rumlow pulls Steve in for a kiss, and it’s the first one this evening. Steve grasps uselessly at Rumlow’s shoulders, unable to pull him closer or push him away. He can barely hang on at all. Rumlow isn’t gentle. He takes and takes, his mouth harsh against Steve’s, until Steve feels a sting and then tastes blood. They break apart. Red stains Rumlow’s upper lip. Steve’s lower lip throbs. 

Without ceremony, Rumlow shoves the coffee table and couch to the side. Steve would help normally, but he feels weak and helpless, so he stays where Rumlow has left him.

When the space is clear, Rumlow grabs Steve’s head and pushes him down. Steve goes without any resistance.

“Ass up and spread yourself. show me how desperate your hole is.”

Steve kneels with his face pressed to the cold floor. His hands shake as he reaches behind and pulls aside the panties and his ass cheeks to show himself off to Rumlow, He clenches around the toy, still buzzing away, and Rumlow laughs. The laugh rolls through Steve like a hot wave.

“You know you’re trying to suck that plug deeper? Your asshole’s just fluttering around it, like it could pull it in.” Rumlow’s hands are on Steve’s hips, and he tilts Steve up like a piece of meat to get a better look.

Steve’s face burns, and his cock strains where it lays against his stomach.

“It’s nice having such a willing hole to fuck whenever I want.” As Rumlow speaks, he begins to pull out the toy. It’s tortuously slow, and Steve bites his lip to keep from crying out. His body shakes as it at last pops free.

“Your ass didn’t want to give this up. Just kept gripping and gripping…”

Steve moans.

“Yeah, I’ll fill you up again, don’t worry about that.”

Steve hears the zipper. He tenses with the anticipation, but Rumlow likes teasing him. He’s going to take his time.

When he first feels Rumlow’s cockhead run along down his ass, it sets his nerves alight. He digs his fingers into his ass to ground himself, to keep from pushing back and begging. Rumlow must notice though. He laughs and pats Steve’s flank like he’s a horse.

“Your body’s just begging for it. Fuck, you could probably do this 24-7, huh?”

Steve shudders.

“Nah, the question isn’t could. It’s would.” Rumlow leans over his back. “And you fucking would, right? Tell me.”

“Yes,” Steve says in a rush. “I would, yes, _please_.”

Rumlow slaps his ass, and it stings for a second before fading quickly. He slaps Steve a few more times, and Steve gasps when Rumlow hits his trapped balls. 

“Don’t have to ask me, Cap,” and Steve flinches, but holds steady, “cause you could walk into the middle of the lobby and bare your greedy ass and mouth, and no one would reject filling it up. Not for you, of course.” Rumlow tugs harshly at Steve’s cock; Steve hisses. “But because they’ve never seen so easy a fuck. You’re easier than a two-bit whore.”

Steve digs his nails into the flesh of his ass, desperate to ground himself.

Rumlow rubs his cockhead across Steve’s skin, leaving a trail of precum, before finally, finally pushing into Steve.

Steve grunts. It doesn’t matter how much Rumlow preps him or what toys they use first, he’s always a large, invasive force. Today, because he hasn’t let Steve prep himself well, Rumlow feels twice as thick as normal.

Rumlow’s fingers dig into Steve’s hips as he inches forward into Steve.

Steve presses his face into the hard floor as Rumlow at last bottoms out. He’s gasping for breath, his body struggling to adjust to the intrusion, and fuck, does he feel used.

_Perfect_.

Rumlow gives him a moment to adjust, and then he’s pulling out, tortuously slow. The drag of Rumlow’s cock in his ass makes Steve want to scream, to beg, to do anything to get Rumlow to fuck him hard and let him come. Instead, all he does is whimper as Rumlow leaves just his cockhead in and then begins the process again.

Rumlow just repeats that process, over and over, never speeding up. Steve’s toes curl, and his fingers, still clenching his ass, become stiff. It takes everything in him not to push against Rumlow or collapse to the floor. His cock aches, his body aches, and Steve can only press his face harder into the floor and hold on.

At last, Rumlow begins to pick up speed. He changes his angle just a little, and there, right there, he finds Steve’s prostate. Steve gasps as Rumlow’s pace continues to increase, until every thrust of his hips pushes Steve forward.

On instinct, Steve throws his hands down to brace himself, and Rumlow keeps going. Steve gasps and moans, the pleasure radiating out through his body, but he can’t come, not with the ring around his cock, and it hurts so much. 

“Please,” he begs as Rumlow fucks him, “let me come, please…”

Rumlow slams into him and pauses, bending over Steve to say in his ear, “You’ll come when I want you to. If you earn it. Your pleasure doesn’t matter.” Then he hooks his fingers around the collar and pulls.

His head pulled back, Steve chokes. Rumlow continues to fuck him. Rumlow keeps pulling and pulling, and Steve’s back curves painfully. He gasps and struggles for breath, but he can’t. Panicked, he scrabbles at the floor in front of him, but Rumlow doesn’t let up. The only sound Steve can make is a strangled, “Buh-”

Rumlow’s still fucking him hard, and he can’t take a breath, the pressure around his neck almost unbearable, and his cock hurts so much, and he’s getting dizzy, light-headed, how is Rumlow so strong? And then-

Rumlow releases him. Steve collapses forward, gasping for breath, as Rumlow comes deep inside him. The rush of air makes Steve feel floaty and disconnected, and the pain in his cock is far away and distant.

It’s a strange, pleasant distance.

Steve rests, feeling boneless, against the cold floor. Rumlow, still in him, keeps his ass up, but Steve can’t support himself otherwise. 

It takes him a few minutes before he notices Rumlow’s speaking.

“-like getting choked out, don’t you, Steve? Just want someone to put you in your place, don’t you?”

If Steve could speak, he’d agree. He’s where he belongs, as Rumlow’s fuck toy. But his lips feel dry and his throat bruised, so all he can do is give the barest of nods.

Rumlow catches it, though, and he laughs. Steve lets his eyes close and listens to that laugh. It tells him Rumlow’s pleased, satisfied both from his orgasm and from Steve’s performance.

Somewhere in Steve, he just thinks, _good_.

As he comes back to himself, another part of him is once again aware of his cock and his need to come. 

Rumlow either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “Gotta take a leak,” he says, so Steve waits for him to pull out and leave him there, gaping and open, until he’s ready to take Steve again.

“Hold still,” Rumlow says, and there’s a pause. Steve’s confused until he realizes Rumlow is pissing _in_ him.

He scratches at the floor with his fingernails, his cock jumps, and Steve cries as his whole body turns red.

It’s hot, it’s dirty, and he can’t believe Rumlow’s actually doing it. But he can feel it filling him, and Rumlow pisses for so long. At last, he sighs, satisfied, and Steve whimpers as Rumlow pats his thigh.

“I’m going to pull out now. You spill any of that, you’re gonna clean it up.”

Steve tries. But as Rumlow pulls out, he’s not sure he can clench his ass tight enough to keep any of it in. He feels something drip down his balls and cock, then drip to the floor, and Steve holds back a sob.

A second later, Rumlow’s pushing something into Steve’s ass, a plug, most likely, and Steve relaxes. Nothing more runs down.

He wants to collapse in a heap, but a disappointed noise from Rumlow stops him. “Look at that,” Rumlow says. He crouches down beside Steve and hooks his finger around the collar. He uses it to guide Steve’s head around to look at the tiny puddle underneath Steve. It’s not just what dripped from Steve’s ass. There’s his own precome speckled around. “Do you wanna clean that up?”

Steve swallows. His mouth is too dry, and his reply, when it comes, is a reedy whisper. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Rumlow keeps leading him by his collar. Steve shuffles around until his head is just inches from the mess. 

“Go to it,” Rumlow says evenly.

His stomach does a funny flip: part revulsion, part anticipation. Steve’s hot with shame, and it twists inside of him, in his belly, in his heart, but there’s desire mixed in, and he’s being pulled apart from the inside by it all.

The acrid smell, even from such a small amount, assaults his nose and makes his eyes water. It takes two tries for him to take that first lick. He doesn’t recoil; Rumlow rests his hand on Steve’s head, a firm reminder of Rumlow’s expectations. 

Steve hates not meeting expectations. It makes life as Captain America difficult. Everyone wants something different from him, and he can’t possibly be all those things to everyone. 

But Rumlow just wants him to clean up this mess. That, Steve can do.

When the floor is clean, the taste lingering bitter and harsh on Steve’s tongue, Rumlow puts his boot against Steve’s ribcage and shoves him over. Steve collapses with a cry, and he curls in on himself. His cock, having knocked against the floor, aches.

“So now what do I do with your useless ass?” Rumlow says. His voice is casual. He begins circling Steve, eyeing him like he’s a vague annoyance to deal with.

Steve can’t stand it any longer. “Please,” Steve begs, fighting back tears again, “please let me come.” He hurts so much, he’s going to explode if he doesn’t.

“Why?” Rumlow says, voice harsh. “Why should I let you come? Why do you deserve it?”

“I don’t.” Steve breaks and he begins to sob. “I don’t deserve it, I don’t, please, I’m filth, I’m a whore, a toy, please, please, I don’t deserve it.”

Rumlow crouches down and lifts Steve’s face. He’s gentle in his touch as he wipes at Steve’s face with his thumbs. He sticks one thumb into Steve’s mouth to clean off, and Steve can taste the saltiness of his tears. He’s ashamed of how he’s broken down in front of Rumlow, but it only makes him more desperate to come.

“That’s right,” Rumlow says. “You’re worthless and don’t deserve to come. Should leave you like this all night, fucked, plugged up with piss and come, and aching for someone to jerk you off. Disgusting thing is you’d fucking love that, wouldn’t you?” Steve starts sobbing again. His body quivers, and he can’t stop it.

Rumlow pets his hair. Steve can’t stand when he’s so kind to him like that. Rumlow pulls Steve up and against him. Oh, god, Steve’s getting Rumlow all dirty, with his tears and snot on Rumlow’s shoulder and his cock leaking against Rumlow’s leg. He’s making a mess, and he needs to clean it up, but he can’t think, can’t focus. 

His hips jerk, seeking friction against Rumlow, but Rumlow wordlessly scolds him. He pushes Steve back a little, enough to get his hand around Steve’s cock, and Steve gasps at the touch.

“You don’t deserve to come, and you recognize that,” Rumlow says as he begins to stroke Steve. The cock ring still sits around the base of his cock, and Rumlow’s fingers are torture.

Steve keens, a high pitch whine that pierces through the otherwise quiet apartment. 

Rumlow ignores the sound and continues on. “You were made to be used, used up and thrown away.”

“Yes,” Steve whines, “yes, yes, ahhhh-”

Rumlow rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and Steve bucks into his touch. 

“Tell me. Tell me you just want to be used. Thank me for using you.”

Steve buries his face in Rumlow’s neck, his face flaming red. “Thank you,” he says, and it comes out as a whimper. “Thank you, thank you. I- ahhh, I want to be fucked. Used. That’s it. Thank you. Thank you.”

“What would you let me do to you just so I’d fuck you?”

“Anything!” Steve shakes, and his mind is suddenly full with a thousand images. “Anything, fuck, anything…”

“Sell you to any john on the street?”

“Fuck, yes, just, anything at all, I’d be good, just please, please…”

Rumlow laughs. “Look at me.”

Steve can’t stop crying. He takes in a shaky breath as he looks at Rumlow, and Rumlow chooses that moment to twist his cock. A moment later, and Rumlow’s taking off the cock ring. All it takes is for his fingers to brush against Steve’s cock, and Steve’s coming. He comes with a whine, and his orgasm rocks through his body. But Rumlow doesn’t stop touching his cock, and Steve violently twitches, too sensitive and the touch turning painful.

“You made my shirt a mess.”

Steve stills. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he takes short, quick breaths. He waits.

Rumlow sighs and catches Steve’s collar. He tugs him, gently, a little closer. “I’ll save that punishment for another time. I think we’re done for the day.”

Rumlow takes the collar off and tosses it in the direction of the other toys. 

Steve suddenly feels exhausted. He wants to close his eyes and go to sleep. There’s something holding him back, though, and without thinking, he asks, “Can you stay the night? Please.”

Rumlow doesn’t usually stay, but Steve wants him to tonight. The idea of going to an empty bed, waking up alone, heading off alone, makes him feel lost and sick. 

He’s ashamed that he can’t handle being alone tonight. He manages it every other day, but for some reason, right now, it’s too much for him. This shame doesn’t bring any juxtaposed pleasure. It simply hurts.

Rumlow sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Getting mushy on me, Steve?”

Steve stands, slowly. Rumlow helps. It takes a moment, but Steve takes an unsteady step toward the bathroom. “You don’t have to. Forget I said anything.”

He makes his way across the living room floor. Behind him, he hears Rumlow sigh again. Then there are footsteps as Rumlow approaches and then slings an arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Fine,” Rumlow says, casual, as if it’s no big thing, “I’ll stay. But keep this in until morning?” He taps the plug with a forefinger. 

Steve stomach twists, but this time, it’s a good twist. “Not the whole night.”

“Sure, but wake me when you take it out. I’ve got plans for that shower of yours.” Rumlow leans in and licks Steve cheek, followed by a quick peck. It’s strange and intimate, and Steve isn’t sure he likes it. But Rumlow will stay with him tonight, and that’s the important part.

They collapse into bed after wiping Steve down and putting the collar and the rest of the toys away. Steve shifts, trying to get comfortable with the plug in his ass. 

They wake up sometime after midnight, and, cramped together in Steve’s shower, clean him out. Then Rumlow fucks him again, but it’s casual and quick. Rumlow whispers some dirty things and bites Steve’s ear as they come. It’s not unsatisfying, but it leaves Steve with a longing for something a little more intense.

In the morning, Steve wakes up alone. He tries not to feel too disappointed. It makes sense; Rumlow didn’t bring a change of clothes. He probably wants a proper shower without lazy sex thrown in this time. 

He and Steve aren’t _dating_.

“Stupid,” Steve mutters to himself.

The living room is cleaned up, and Steve’s furniture rearranged. More importantly, Rumlow’s bag full of toys is still there. That means-

“Morning,” Rumlow says as he opens Steve’s front door. He has a brown paper bag, which turns out to be bagels, and two coffees. 

Steve ignores the way his heart flutters.

They eat, chat about inconsequential things, and when they’re done, Rumlow picks up his bag and hefts it over his shoulder. “I’ve got to run home to change, but I’ll see you at work.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. He leans against the back of his couch, arms crossed. “Hey, thanks for last night. And staying with me.”

Rumlow pauses at the door. He looks Steve up and down, and then he smiles. “No problem. Your bed’s a bit hard, but… Anyway, I’ve got one last thing for you.”

Rumlow digs in his bag and pulls out a small brown package. He tosses it to Steve.

Again, Steve’s heart flutters as he opens it.

It’s a fresh pair of panties, lacy and delicate.

“What are those for?”

“For you,” Rumlow says, coming up to Steve. He plucks them from Steve’s hands and holds them up, hanging off one finger. “For you to wear today.”

“I thought we agreed-”

“It’s just a pair of undies,” Rumlow cuts in. “Come on, Steve. For me.” He leans in closer, and Steve shivers as his hot breath carasses his face. “I want to know you’re wearing them all day. And then maybe I’ll stuff them in your mouth tonight? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Steve closes his eyes. He can already imagine the taste of the dirty panties in his mouth.

He does his best to swallow. There’s that funny little heart flutter again. “Alright. For you.”

“Perfect.”

Rumlow leans in to give Steve a quick kiss, and then he’s out the door.

For a moment, Steve stays where he is, panties in his hand. He runs his fingers over the lace. Truth be told, he’s not sure he’ll make it through the day in these. If he’ll be able to focus.

A spike of shame twists in Steve’s stomach. 

It’s at once terrible and perfect.

He goes to his bedroom to change.

\--

Natasha tells him not to look. Steve knows she’s right. He has to, though.

Although there are a few scanned polaroids (some Steve doesn’t even remember), there’s no footage, which is a small mercy. The bugs, however, picked up the audio perfectly. And with Rumlow’s running commentary? There isn’t much left to the imagination.

There are remixes, there are jokes, there are moral tirades on both privacy and sexual deviancy. More than one late night show create sketches. There are entire animated videos to make up for the lack of footage, and a lot of it is remarkably accurate.

Fury told him the surveillance files were supposed to be erased after a 48 hour period. Everything’s there, though, easy access for anyone with an internet connection, every moment of time spent in his apartment, saved courtesy Rumlow and his HYDRA friends. 

Steve listens to every moment, all just a click away. He listens in his now debugged apartment, lights off, eyes closed. 

He already knew he was a mild masochist. He’s just proving he’s an emotional one as well.

Once, he gets hard. Once, he jerks off. Afterward, when he finishes vomiting in the toilet, he doesn’t again.

Steve listens to every single minute, every single name Rumlow calls him, his own moans and gasped pleas, again and again, until he stops feeling anything at all.


End file.
